A black man holds me at gunpoint and demands I come with him

The most likely culprit to come visit me while I’m in the shower is my older brother, Steve, but he sure is hovering a bit after entering the bathroom. My patience runs thin, so I turn around to let him know that he’s been caught, thinking it would be more of a surprise as he sees me fully naked in the shower. But when I turn around, I see a black man with a ski mask and a gun pointed right at me. I immediately put my hands up but think twice about trying to scream. The black man tosses me a towel so I can dry myself up and maybe cover myself. While still pointing the gun at me, he gestures to me to come out of the shower slowly. I step out of the shower as slowly as I can. He grabs me by the back of my neck and forces me to walk. I take any chance I can to dry myself off.

He takes me downstairs where I discover there are more of them. There are at least eight just in my living room, all with ski masks and varying degrees of musculature, height and dark skin tones. Once I’m on the first floor, the gunman pushes me towards what I believe is the one in charge. He towers over me and considering the muscle mass in just his arms, it seems he could break me in two if he wanted to. Instead, when I get near him, he strikes with the back of his hand, sending me into another of the men. “Don’t move and we won’t hurt you, bitch,” he says, picking up the towel that I’ve just dropped.

Two men keep me still while they tie me up with rope that they have brought with them. I don’t know how these men got into the house, though I suspect someone let them in. That’s when a door opens and a trio of figures are brought in, their hands tied behind their backs and hoods obscuring their faces. They are made to kneel in the middle of the room, facing me. Their hoods are removed, revealing their identities.